


A Dark Rise

by Book_buried_Batter



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: BH takes him in, Child Abuse, Flug is like 8 in this fic, Origin Story, Other, Self-Indulgent, and if he does i would like proof of it, because everyone around him is treating him like shit, but for now just take what I've got, full of headcanons, idk if flug actually has a canon first name yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-30 18:54:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12115053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Book_buried_Batter/pseuds/Book_buried_Batter
Summary: Flug is a child sent to an "academy" by his parents for his way-above-average intelligence where they hoped he would become a hero and change the world for the better. Instead, he's stuck in a small lab for years without much free will, seeing as he is a child, and given an impossible amount of work to do all on his own. One day, he's given a "feral" subject to work on and "tame". However, this doesn't work out so well for everyone BUT Flug.





	A Dark Rise

**Author's Note:**

> I still hate the formatting on this site with a burning passion, let me indent my fucking paragraphs, it looks SO disorganized

The creature in the corner of the lab looked less than pleased about its situation. Even with the molded metal around its mouth, its scowl was evident in its eyes. Its wrists were cuffed flush against the metal arms of a chair, its ankles pinned the same way to the legs. Each limb was encircled by a dark blue band treated with chemicals that the present scientist couldn't even trace if he wanted. The small puff of blond that called himself a scientist pushed up his too-large glasses, shifting uncomfortably under the creature's gaze. His clipboard shook in his tiny hands while he recorded all his observations; about the creature’s charcoal skin, how it had only one normal eye and the other pitch black, how its hands and feet ended in what could only be described as talons. Even as he moved around his lab for supplies and tools, the creature’s eyes followed him. He found his syringes and various test tubes, setting them on a rolling tray slightly shorter than he was, even at its shortest adjusted height.  
He hadn't yet spoken a word to the creature. He didn't need to, he just had orders to find out what it was and if it could be tamed, converted to “their side”. With three empty tubes in his pocket, he inserted one in the syringe, trying to find a vein to draw the creature’s blood from in its arm. He made a small “uhh” sound, then shuffled to another counter, digging in a lower drawer for a moment before returning to his subject with a magnifying glass. He looked down at both his hands, then set the syringe on the tray. Taking the pen he had used with his clipboard, he used the glass to find a vein, then made a circle around it. Before he put the pen down again, he scribbled something about how the creature’s veins nearly matched its skin. At last, he went for the syringe and set to work. The whole time, the creature’s eyes burned into him.  
No sooner had he removed the needle from the creature’s arm than a speaker on the far side of the lab crackled to life, a loud, gruff voice shouting, “FLUG! Where are your reports?! I wanted them on my desk two hours ago!”  
The scientist, Flug, jumped hard, nearly dropping the tube of black liquid in his hand. As carefully as he could in his haste, he set it on the rolling tray with the other three, removing one too-large latex glove as he dashed over to the speaker. He struggled to reach the button to respond, his small voice shaking as he said, “S-sorry admiral, th-the captain ordered me to do some work with the-”  
“Does it sound like I want your excuses?! Just get me those reports! You have another thirty minutes, do you hear me?!” The speaker peaked with how loud the voice was now.  
“Yes, admiral…” Flug replied meekly. When there was no other noise, he went back to retrieve the tubes of blood for storage, then moved to the bulky computer near the door to make up his reports on genetic weapon development from earlier that day.  
It seemed that no matter what he did, though, the creature was watching him. Halfway through the first report, he glanced over his shoulder at it, once more shifting uncomfortably in his oversized chair. Its eyes were narrow, glaring into his back. “Quit looking at me like that…” he mumbled, but it didn't seem to have an effect. He just went back to work.

~~~~~

Thirty-two minutes later, Flug stood up with an armful of papers, moving quickly to the door. Before his finger could hit the button on his side to open it, it slid open. He let out a gasp, taking a step back from the uniformed admiral. The man's buzzed hair was more white than brown, wrinkles covering his forehead and frown lines around his lips, especially now. “Flug…” He growled, forcing the scientist back further with a step. “I gave you thirty minutes to get these reports on my desk and they weren't there. You're a child genius and you still can't get a deadline right! Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?! ‘Oh yes, he can genetically engineer you a brand new bringer of justice, but I can't tell you when because the dumbass can't get his timing right’!” the admiral mocked his future self, snatching all of the papers out of Flug's hands and slamming them down on a nearby counter.  
Flug knew better by now than to speak before the man was done, only bringing his arms up to hide his face as a response. It hardly did anything to stop the harsh slap that knocked his glasses away, then a second one that sent him to the floor. His cheeks stung and there were tears in his eyes when he looked up, the admiral’s own face twisted angrily. “Next time, get. It. Right!” He spat. Flug thought for sure the man was going to kick him for good measure, but he just turned on his heel and left, taking the messy reports with him.  
A muffled growl came from behind him and from his place on the floor, he turned to look in the direction of the noise. The creature’s eyes followed the admiral to the door, staring for a few more moments before they snapped back to him. Slowly, he pulled himself to his feet, roughly scrubbing his eyes with the sleeves of his labcoat. Unsure of what else to do now, he decided to go back to work with the creature in the corner.

~~~~~

Nearly twenty-two hours later, Flug was still working without a minute of sleep. In that time, he had hit a dead end with the blood work on his subject, been yelled at for it and was picked up by the collar and taunted by a new recruit who was just there to make fun of his height. It seemed the man hadn't realized he was yelling at an eight-year-old until he started to cry. At that point, he was dropped, laughed at, and the man left. “Some hero…” he'd mumbled, going back to his workbench. He had finally gotten used to the creature staring at him as he worked, chalking most of it up to how tired he was. There was nothing he could do about his fatigue, though. He tried to sleep and found that some nights, he just couldn't. So now he was trying to fix a small gun of his own design, something simple he could use to protect himself, just in case. He didn't have anything to charge it with and even if he did, it refused to fire. His hands were littered with tiny cuts since the protective gloves he wore were too big to be able to work in. At one point, he got up and stretched, his spine popping loudly as he did. Slowly, with his arms still stretched in the air, he turned towards the corner of his lab that still housed the creature. “Do you sleep?” He asked it, starting in its direction. When he was in front of it, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “...Do you… talk? If you talked, it'd make my job a lot easier…” Pulling a small collapsible screwdriver from his breast pocket, he walked around the creature and started to unscrew the metal casing around its mouth. “You know, I'm probably gonna get my butt kicked for this… but I can get some more results this way… So in the long run, it's worth it, isn't it!” Finally, the last screw gave and the garment fell into the creature’s lap.  
Almost instantly, it began to speak. “I swear, none of you have any decency!” it complained. “And as if I would ever join you ridiculous heroes and your silly games, all you ever do is play around. None of you could handle a real fight!”  
Halfway through the creature’s rant, Flug was celebrating. He jumped and pumped his fist in the air, exclaiming a small “yes!” as he did. He scrambled back over to his workbench, shuffling everything around to find his clipboard. He began scribbling notes again, about the creature’s voice and his its razor sharp teeth were naturally greenish in color.  
“S-so… so what are you? Where are you from?” Flug asked, smiling wide.  
“I'm from the depths of hell, you fool!” It snapped.  
“Really?” Flug leaned forward on his toes, intrigued.  
“From a technical standpoint, yes.”  
“So… that makes you… so-some kind of demon?”  
“Perhaps you could call it that.” The creature glared at him now.  
“So that's why nothing was working on you! You're not from this world, huh? Y-you're not set up like a human at all! Pff, duh, why didn't I even think of that?” He smacked himself on the forehead, his cheeks heating up.  
“Perhaps because you're a child?” The demon offered.  
“Hey, I'm smart, though! I'm a genius! So I should've figured I should test you differently…” Flug was moving back towards the workbench when the door to the lab slid open.  
The admiral stepped in, but before he could say anything, the demon snapped, “Oh, this imbecile again. Perhaps you'd like to abuse your own employee more?”  
The outburst earned a sharp look towards Flug. “You let it speak? Were you not given explicit orders not to let it out?!”  
“A-admiral, it isn't out, I just took the… the gag off so it could talk-” Flug stuttered.  
“Shut. Up!” The admiral punctuated himself by delivering a hard slap across the small scientist's face. “What is your problem with following orders?!” While Flug was still reeling, the admiral replaced the metal piece back onto the demon’s face. This time, he found a small torch and welded it back on. The man made to leave, only turning back when he reached the doorway. “You are to stop work with that thing until further notice! I need you to create a bulletproof, skin tight suit and have a prototype to me in three days!” And then he was gone.

~~~~~

Twelve hours later, Flug still hadn't slept. And he hadn't started working on his prototype, either. He hadn't taken any time for self care in that time, the rumpled blue t-shirt and jeans he wore now a day old or more, he wasn't sure. Despite the chemicals he was working with, his lab coat was now unbuttoned due to heat. Flug just wanted to finish his new gun, a plasma gun is what he wanted it to be. At this point, all it needed was a little power. The core was a mixture of luminol and a few other chemicals he had written down but couldn't quite remember right now. But because of the way luminol would react, and then the rest of the chemicals to the activated luminol, he had calculated that just a little bit of blood would give the power he needed. He deftly reached for his screwdriver, positioning his thumb over the top of the gun. He was too tired to feel much and he knew it. More clumsily than was probably safe, he drove the end of the tool into his thumb until it drew blood, then let it drip into the core of the gun. As quickly as he could, he snapped it closed, the chemicals inside beginning to heat up. Within a few moments, it made a noise like it was powering up, but Flug hardly had it in him to celebrate. “Just gotta test it now…” He mumbled. Slowly, he turned to the demon and got up, stumbling over to it and moving behind it. His hands trembling, he pressed the end of his gun against the welded metal. He looked away before he squeezed the trigger in. Flug only opened his eyes again when the demon spoke, no sound having told him his weapon fired.  
“Well well, a functioning weapon. I doubt you're supposed to have something like that, hm? And you used it on me, of all things? Maybe you really do have a problem following orders…” The demon made a tsk sound, shaking its head.  
As Flug walked around it to remove the rest of its restraints the same way, he said, “Will you kill me? When I get you out, will you kill me?” He wasn't sure what to make of the silence he received in return. As the last metal cuff fell to the floor, the demon stood up, towering over the scientist. It was picking at the dark blue cuffs now, wanting them off as well. Flug muttered a small “come here” and began to lead the demon to the counter by the sink where he started to dig in a drawer. He pulled out a small set of wire cutters, stuffing his gun into his pocket before setting to work on removing the blue cuffs too.  
No sooner had they been removed than there was a puff of black smoke that completely enveloped the demon. When it reappeared, it was wearing a black suit with a red button-up under its blazer, a black tie tucked into the white half-vest on top of it. A monocle obscured its pitch black eye now, a tall, black top hat with red trim on its head. Its hands, which now rested on the top of a black cane, were covered by black leather gloves, taloned feet covered by black and white dress shoes. Its black slacks were perfectly pressed, which seemed only fitting. A wide, toothy smile split his face nearly in two. Flug blinked dumbly up at it for a moment, then asked, “S-so what now…?”  
“Now, my little scientist,” The demon leaned down to Flug's level. “we wreak havoc!” Before it even turned around, the door to the lab slid open, the demon’s doing. It grabbed Flug's left wrist- not harshly, he noted- and began to pull him along.  
“Wh… what kind of havoc…?” The blond asked timidly, stumbling over his own feet while they went down a hallway.  
“Any kind we can!” The demon sounded joyous, bringing its cane up into its free hand and hitting the wall nearest to it with the golden top. The wall began to crumble impossibly fast, throwing dust and debris around. Without the support, the ceiling began to give, too, but the demon hardly paid it any mind, just pulled the child along. Suddenly, an alarm sounded, a loud, repetitive shriek that woke Flug up and made him pull his hand away and cover both his ears. He hardly heard the demon yell, “Now this where the real fun begins!”  
Before he knew it, there were armed guards streaming in at them, covered by bulky armor and tough helmets with black visors. All of them had weapons. Flug couldn't help but reach out to cling to the demon's arm in a panic, slowly being shaken off after a few seconds. Then, in his sleep deprived mind, he remembered his gun. Without thinking, he whipped it out of his pocket, let it power up and fired at one of the respondents. He hadn't even taken the time to aim, but it burned a hole right through the man's throat, a weak point in their armor, and he crumpled to the floor. There was a brief, stunned silence before shots were fired from the other side. Seconds later, there were respondents behind them as well, firing rapidly. Flug felt a bullet graze his cheek, then his side, and he ducked out of instinct, beginning to cry. He didn’t notice the demon moving away from him at an inhuman pace, literally shredding the officers while it did. Blood splattered everywhere, covering the walls, the floor and the scientist’s coat.  
Suddenly, he was roughly yanked to his feet by a large hand, the person starting to run away while dragging Flug behind him. It was only after they were around a corner and out of the real action that he realized it was the admiral who had grabbed him- and he looked furious. They came to a sudden stop and Flug was thrown up against the wall, a heavy military boot being planted firmly in his side when he hit the floor. From where he was, he raised his gun once more, only to have his forearm grabbed before he could fire. He let out a yell of pain, the plasma gun falling to the ground as his arm cracked. He wasn’t even paying attention to the admiral’s voice by then, he just didn’t have the brainpower for it. He only registered that he was being lifted even higher dangling in the air. Now he looked the admiral right in the face as the man shouted at him. The only thing Flug could blubber out was “I’m sorry” over and over, then he was being dragged again, even further into the compound and away from the sound of gunfire. Then he was hurled into another wall, letting himself be still when he landed again.  
More dazed than ever, he looked up, only to see the demon kneeling next to him. Just behind it was a mound of unrecognizable remains that could only be the admiral. Its mouth was moving and its face was twisted in a way that made him think it was worried, but he only pondered on the demon’s potential feelings for a few moments, his head slowly dropping back to the floor. He was only vaguely aware of the fact that he was being carefully lifted into the demon’s arms, his head being tucked against its chest. The world around him was going dim, everything feeling muted and fuzzy and dark, save the pain he felt jolting from his face and pulsing from his arm and his side. Something in the back of his mind told him that his arm was broken, at least, and maybe a couple of ribs. Unconsciously, he let out a whimper, then a half-sob. He was gently shushed, feeling the demon’s chest rumble as it spoke to him, even if he didn’t really hear what it said. The last things he could hold awareness for were the hot tears streaming down his cheeks.

~~~~~

When Flug next had a registered thought, it was because he could feel something pressing up against him from all sides. It wasn’t anything heavy or painful, just soft, smooth even. The next thing he noticed was the hand stroking his hair flat against a soft pillow. And then came the waves of pain. He forced his eyes open, everything around him blurring together without the help of his glasses. He suddenly shot up into a sitting position, panic seeping into his very bones. He let out a pained groan, his right arm still sitting limply at his side. He pressed his free hand against his side, wincing. Slowly, he looked around, then up when his eye caught the dark mass hovering over him. As near as he could tell, it was the demon. Said creature was sitting on the edge of the bed, its hand now withdrawn from his hair. As gently as it could, it said, “Your arm is badly broken, Flug.”  
“...Joshua. My first name is Joshua.” Flug whispered, his own name feeling strange in his mouth after going so long without using it.  
“Very well.” The demon responded. “You may call me Black Hat.”  
Joshua couldn’t help but smile weakly at that. “That’s a funny name.” He mumbled.  
Black Hat grumbled, but didn’t comment on it any further. “Your arm is badly broken. I’ve already removed your lab coat but I’m going to have to cut your shirt off. Unless you’d rather me lift it over your head?”  
Joshua weighed his options. “I-I can get it off…” He worked his arm good arm out of the sleeve, yanking the ruined blue shirt over his head and managing to get it down and off of his arm. He didn’t realize it until Black Hat had taken the shirt out of his hand that he was crying from the pain again. Then the world around him went black.

~~~~~

When he woke up again, Joshua was laying on his left side. His right arm, now in a cast, rested on a pillow next to him. He could feel the slight pull of a large band-aid on his cheek and side. He knew he should be in pain, but only felt heavy and numb. He had been dressed in a red fleece pyjama shirt, silk blankets tucked tightly around him. The bedroom was dark now, moonlight shining in through the open floor-to-ceiling windows. He still couldn’t make out any details of the room, but now he knew that the bed we was resting in was massive, his body only taking up a tiny fraction of it. He didn’t want to think about where he was right then, he assumed he was safe- he felt safer than he had in a long time, anyway. Before he drifted off again, he thought maybe being a villain like the creature that took him in would be better than becoming the sorry excuse he’d been made to believe was a hero.

**Author's Note:**

> Black Hat's most recent google search: "How to care for a human child"


End file.
